As the car moved, My mind was filled with thoughts about what Mr and Mrs Victor were going to say to me. Was it about my Aunt? And if it is. Am I ready for such truth? I know, I’ve been advocating for the truth. Honesty, Truth, and all that. But is the reality of my Aunt leaving me, The maybe bad  reason she left me. Could I handle all that? Could I handle the truth, that my Aunt left me because she suddenly, one day doesn’t love me anymore? Left me in my friend’s house just to leave and get married? I couldn’t handle it. Just thinking about scenarios, and probabilities of the reason made me sick. Maybe sometimes lying isn’t all that bad? 

Maybe there are some good in a lie, A white lie.  To not hurt the person’s feelings.

No. I can’t just hide from the truth. I can’t just run away. I can’t just hide in a protective dome and not accept any harsh truth. If we can’t get sad, and angry from the truth. If we avoid it. Are we even human anymore? If we don’t feel hurt. The pain. The harsh reality. Then what are we?

I took a deep breath, and with all the strength in my body. I try to stay calm. 

The car ride was a short one, but it felt so long. We arrived at the house. Mr. and Mrs. Victor’s house. The house I’ve been living in for two years, The house where I was abandoned. By the woman who said she loved me. My Aunt. I know when I get through that door. I would get the truth I wanted, and can decide if I could even call my Aunt an Aunt. 

The wheelchair was prepared for me by Mr.Victor. I hopped down and sat down. As I sat down, Mr. Victor spoke. 

“Rhoa. You ready brave champ?” He said, with his british accent. 

“I’m ready for anything at this point,” I said. 

“That’s the spirit,” He said. 

Mr. Victor then started to wheel me inside. As I got inside, I then was wheeled to my room. 

“Now. Do you want to take a bath?” Mr. Victor asked. 

“Alright. Get your clothes. I’ll get ready you’re chair” Mr. Victor said, then he hopped along to the direction of the bathroom. 

I then wheel myself in my room. Grabbing my clothes. A casual white shirt, and training pants. My favorite. 

Mr. Victor then came back. 

“You ready for your bath, Rhoa?” Mr. Victor said. 

“Yes,” I replied. 

“Here we go” Mr. Victor said. 

He then started to wheel me to the bathroom. Placed me inside. 

“Now if you need anything.Scream so we can hear you alright?” Mr. Victor said. 

“Mr. Victor. You’ve done this many times before. Why are you so nervous this time?’ I asked. 

“I’m just a bit tiny nervous, That’s all,” Mr. Victor said.

“Alright. Can you leave?” I asked. 

“Oh yes. I’m sorry” Mr Victor said, and scrambles to get out. 

I then place my things on the edge of the sink. I got up on my foot that I can use, and hopped one legged to the bathroom chair underneath the shower. I sat down there. Opened my closets, and opened the shower. 

After taking a bath. I took the towel next to me in a handle. Scrub myself off. After that I hopped back to my wheelchair. Putting on my clothes from the sink. 

“Mr. Victor, I’m done!” I said, after putting all my clothes on. 

Mr. Victor then opened the door, and got behind me and started to wheel me to my room. 

“Rhoa. Wait here. Mrs. Victor is on her way from work” Mr. Victor said. 

“Alright. I’ll wait” I said. 

Mr. Victor then left with a wave and closed my door. I then hopped to my bed. Finally I could relax. Then it hit me. After this is when Mrs. Victor’s going to tell me why my Aunt left me. I took another deep breath, and waited with a comic book. After a few pages, Suddenly, The front door opened, and a familiar voice was heard. 

“Kids, I’m home”. That was Mrs. Victor’s voice. She’s here. 

My heart started racing. I’m scared. I’m scared if I have to stop my caregiver. My Mother figure. I’m scared that everything that Aunt taught me was a lie. I’m scared that all those happy memories were lies, I’m scared that her smile and mine, When we were together it was all just an act. A play. To get my inheritance. 

There are so many things to fear. Including this. But I have to face it. Want it or not. It’s like cancer. If you know early on, you could cure it. But if you refuse to acknowledge it. It can’t be cured. It’ll hurt. 

Mr. Victor then opened my door. 

“Are you ready? Rhoa?” Mr. Victor asked. 

“Yeah. I’m ready” I said. 

I took my final breath and then I hopped to my Wheelchair. Mr. Victor then starts to wheel me to the dining room. There Mrs. Victor was waiting with the table tidy and a glass of red wine. 

I was placed on the opposite side of the table. 

“So, Rhoa.” Mrs. Victor said to start the conversation. “We are here today to talk a certain gift from your Aunt” Mrs. Victor said. 

“What gift?” I asked. 

“A clue. One could say” Mr. Victor said. 

“Yes dear. Now let me tell you the full story of how you got here.” Mrs. Victor said. 

“I already know.” I said. 

“But you don’t know the full story yet” Mrs. Victor said. 

“I heard the phone call that night,” I said. 

“So you already know…” Mrs. Victor said. 

“I do. Now answer this. Why did she leave me here?” I asked. 

“We don’t know for certain. I’ve already tried to contact your family but none of them wanted to tell us. But one thing's for sure. She left clues.” Mrs. Victor said. 

“What clues?” I asked. 

“Look at it yourself” Mrs. Victor said. 

“Before she disappeared, your aunt left behind a small wooden puzzle box, locked tight. Inside your backpack, you also find an old envelope with her handwriting.” Mrs. Victor said. 

The seal is broken, but the note inside is short and chilling:

"The game is set, the pieces move. Where crowns have fallen and the cold never fades, I make my move."

Alongside the note is a train ticket stub—partially burned—its destination unreadable, but the date is only two days before she left.

Then there's the final piece: a chess piece, a black queen, worn and chipped at the edges.

All of it feels like a message, a puzzle she expects me to solve. Wherever she’s gone, she doesn’t want me to follow too easily—but she also doesn’t want me to stop looking.

“What’s in the Wooden puzzle box?” I asked. 

“We can’t seem to open it. There's many hidden compartments, I think. Try opening it.” Mr. Victor said. 

After hours of fiddling with the wooden puzzle box, twisting its hidden compartments and sliding its delicate panels, you finally hear a faint click. The lid shifts open, revealing its contents:

First a Pocket Watch – An old, silver pocket watch with intricate engravings of swirling patterns. The hands are frozen at 10:17, but when you wind it up, it ticks for exactly one minute before stopping again. There's a tiny inscription inside the cover: "Time runs out for kings and pawns alike."

Second a Map Fragment – A torn piece of parchment with faded ink. It doesn’t resemble any map you’ve seen before, but you recognize a few place names—one of them is circled in red. The edges look like they were deliberately burned.

Third, A Photograph – A black-and-white photo of your aunt, standing next to a man in a sharp suit. She looks younger, maybe in her twenties, and her expression is unreadable. The man beside her… you don’t recognize him, but you seem to know him and something about his cold stare makes your skin crawl. On the back of the photo, a single word is scrawled: Checkmate.

Finally, A Key – Small and ornate, it looks like it belongs to an antique lock. Attached to it is a slip of paper with another riddle: "Not all doors open forward. Sometimes, you must look back."

Whatever Aunt was planning, it’s clear she didn’t leave me behind by accident. She’s leading me toward something. Or warning me away.